


A Million Different Ways

by 0kaikai



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Study, Dercest- freeform, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Incest, sex idk, snarky siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0kaikai/pseuds/0kaikai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i> 'We both know we shouldn't be so close,<br/>but you're talkin' dirty,<br/>it's 2:30 in the morning.' <i></i></p><p>A character study in the ways of Strider-Lalondes, and how they both seem to care too much yet not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Different Ways

**Author's Note:**

> This was based partially off a series of rp's and partially off long winded, rambling discussions because I can never get enough of Strider-Lalonde sibling dynamics. Also, there are snatches of dialog in French because it is a headcanon of both myself and my rp partner's that both Dave and Rose took French for their language credit in highschool, translations for those are labeled at the bottom, and please correct us on any errors you may see!

It's currently 5:30am and it's freezing in her room. The alarm is buzzing in a very intrusive way that forces a small pale hand to slam it quiet before retrieving back under the blanket, tucking it under her as it goes. An essay she put off doing until last night only left her with a few hours to sleep. She knew she couldn't sleep in any later than this. She had an image to with hold and if she did sleep, then she wouldn't wake up until the afternoon. The girl groaned in protest as her mind began waking up, telling her to sit up. Half-open purple eyes scanned the dark room, the only thing that stuck out was the garishly red numbers on the alarm clock that red '5:45am'. Rose gave a quiet sigh and stepped out of bed, soon she would have to wake up her brother. He cared about his hair almost as much as she cared about hers.

Three raps on his door in quick succession are what rouse Dave from his hazy dreams. Metal buildings and strange creatures, boiling lava and an uneasy sense of panic is all that remains in his mind of the dream he had been having repetitively over the past few nights. But his sister calling for him to get up, or he would be late again, reminds him that he's not in some strange land of heat and clockwork, but in his room on a normal school day. Ugh, school. Not something he felt like dealing with today.

Sure, Rose could have just told him it was time to get up and went about her routine. Except her routine today was to intrude on him. So she walks into his room oh so casually, her cold soft fingers gripping at his blanket and yanking it off of the blonde boy. Rose drapes it around herself and walks out of the room, the cloth trailing behind her as she does so. She can still feel the heat from the blanket and it's a bit comforting.

Dave yelps as the blankets are tugged off him, the world suddenly turning cold and bright. It is entirely too cold for him to continue to sleep in just his boxers, he figures as he gropes along his nightstand for his shades. "Dude, not cool," he whines as he unceremoniously shoves the glasses on his face.

The morning is cold and still with a defrosting sun just peaking out from the horizon. Rose walks casually down the hall and into the kitchen where the untouched tile wakes up her senses fully. She can't help but smile a bit at Dave's words as she opens the cupboard and pulls out a half-full box of cereal and two bowls, setting them on the table. "Sleep well?" She asks with a Lalonde smirk, her lavender eyes peeking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of him.

"Yeah, until you came in with your ice-cold hands and woke me up," Dave complains as he follows his sister into the kitchen. The idea of food was enough to coax him out of his slightly-warmer room, and he had the mind to at least put a shirt on before he left. "Thought everyone knew you're supposed to wake the princess up with a kiss, not witch-y ice magic." He rambles on with an early-morning slowness as he goes through the motions of making coffee before pouring himself some of the cereal.

Rose poured herself a cup of coffee as well, cooling down the dark black liquid with her unpainted lips, leaning against the counter as she sipped almost contemplative. "Princesses aren't supposed to sleep shirtless. It's too easy to take advantage of them." Then a thought crossed her mind. "And my hands are not that cold." She stuck a hand up his shirt to prove a point, a mischievous smirk played across her lips.

Dave yelps more in surprise and less at the actual temperature of Rose's touch. He yanks her hand away with a noise of surprise and grumbles something about being able to wear whatever the fuck he wants in his own damn castle, if the prince has a problem with it he can leave, before taking a drink of his slowly-cooling coffee and pulling a face. He pulls out the sugar bowl and adds at least three heaping spoonfuls to the cup, then one more for good measure. He returns the sugary, caffeinated drink and downs half of it in one go, managing to burn the inside of his mouth and throat.

Rose gives a small giggle, but hides it in her coffee mug. "I'll soak my hands in ice next time." She assures him in that low smooth therapist voice that she was known to have. The coffee was killing her appetite, her stomach churning a bit. She dumped out the rest and ran her fingers through her hair, a deep breath escaping her lips. "How much homework did you get done last night?" She asked him, hopping up on the counter. Who the fuck even uses a table? That's not a thing in this house in the morning.

"Well, an attempt was made on my English essay," Dave assures her as he joins her on the countertop, coffee mug held almost possessively in his hands. "I managed to finish my math around midnight and I didn't even try to tackle science. Also, remind me again why I thought it was a good idea to take French? The amount of homework I have to do for that class is un-fucking-believable."

Rose enjoyed these mornings with Dave. She felt a small emptiness when one of them was sick, or when their mom decided to take them out separately. "You can work more on your English during lunch, I'll help you." She suggested, tilting her head back, resting it on the cupboard door. "And if I'm not mistaken, you took French to impress me. Rassurez-vous, je suis impressionné [1]." Her accent was thick and flawless as she crossed one pale leg over the other.

"Comme j'ai su vous seriez [2]," Dave mutters with an almost-smile as he leans against her shoulders. Mornings like these ones, even plagued by abysmal weather, are the kind he prefers. When it's just him and Rose, in their own little world. Even with all the passive-aggressive snark she puts him through and the stoic front he puts up, Dave truly cares for Rose. Deep, deep down sure, but she was his friend and sister, and he would do anything for her.

Rose had difficulty dealing with emotions at times. So she used Sarcasm as a shield and her sharp tongue was her sword. Looking at Dave now, he really did put up with a lot of her shit, and to show her appreciation and affection, she enjoyed doing things like, well, surprising him. Seeing the real Dave under that ironic facade that he wore so well. "If you finish your English essay today, I'll treat you out to frozen yogurt." She took a small bite of a blueberry muffin. "Et si vous êtes chanceux, peut-être plus [3]." She murmured, her smirk growing a bit before she hopped off of the counter casually, going to get dressed.

"Baise oui [4]," Dave couldn't resist the promise of fro-yo, even if it meant he actually had to put effort into existing. Though the 'more' Rose hinted at had a slight blush rising on his pale, freckled cheeks. He absentmindedly watches her exit, sipping at the last dregs of his sugary coffee. But his eyes are soon drifting around the kitchen, and to the clock on the stove. Shit, was it really that late? Dave hops off the counter and sets his cup in the sink, moving now with a sense of urgency as he flash-steps down the hall, ruffling Rose's hair as he passes her.

Rose getting ready never really took that long, considering how she always chose an outfit the night before, when Dave passed her and ruffled her hair, she smirked and without missing a beat, gave Dave's plush rump a 'Good game' slap. Her smile was broad enough to show her brilliant ivory teeth as she continued on her way, getting dressed and putting on her makeup. When she stepped out, she looked less like a teenager and more like a young woman. Lavender button down and dark plum pencil skirt suited her well as she walked back down the hall, grabbing her car keys.

When Dave reached his room the color on his face had managed to darken instead of fade. With a small laugh and a smile he only reserved for himself and one other person, he shakes his head and grabs a pair of dark skinny jeans off the floor. They pass the sniff test he gives them, so Dave throws them on along with his favorite red hoodie. He spends a few minutes in the bathroom, styling his hair to give it that 'rolled out of bed looking fabulous' look and jogs out of the house with his bag in tow. Rose is already at the car, and he gives her outfit an appreciative look from behind his shades.

Rose was leaning against the silver car, keys twirling around those perfectly trimmed nails while she waited. She unlocked the car and slid inside effortlessly. She didn't have to look in the mirror to know she looked good, and damn, Dave's hair was perfect as always. She wanted to mess it up, but resisted the urge to do so. "It's your turn to pick the music." She reminded him with a small smile as she started up the car, pursing her lips for a moment as her amethyst eyes examined her brother. The school wasn't too far away, and when they pulled in, it was natural to get look and murmurs. A close brother and sister, both with odd eye colors. What wasn't to gossip about? Though Rose would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the attention a little bit.

"You're helping me with that essay at lunch, right?" Dave asks as he exits the car. Naturally, he notices the looks and comments everyone else in the parking lot gives them. He liked to think it was because he and Rose were just that hot– which they were. Another look at Rose as some jock passes her, obviously leering at her ass, wakes that possessive part of him. Dave has to strangle down the urge to punch the guy in the face and instead put up the facade that they were just like any other siblings.

"But of course." She retorted smoothly, noticing all the pretty long-haired girls in their skimpy outfits. She didn't feel insecure, she felt powerful. She was dressed and acted as a young woman as these girls were still in their teenage phase. Everything about Rose screamed woman. The Chanel perfume, the appropriately snug skirt, the two buttons that were undone at the top of her shirt to show a small bit of cleavage. Rose's eyes scanned around the campus as she linked arms with Dave as if he were escorting her to her classroom. Let them stare, let them feel discomfort. Rose practically had a niche for it.

Rose's touch helps assure Dave that everything was fine, even with the death glares she was aiming at the backs of some of their peer's heads. She probably doesn't even know she's doing it, but Rose looks every bit of the mature, attractive young woman she is. There is no teenage awkwardness and false, spastic confidence other girls her age tend to carry. Dave is- dare he say it- outright intimidated by Rose sometimes, but it's in a way that twists his stomach in a not-at-all unpleasant way and fills his being with a warmth that he could have someone like her. Rose more or less takes the lead, and Dave lets her, the smell of perfume wafting off her in such close proximity familiar and comforting.

And they walk through the halls like that, making any school couple seem downright inferior and amateur. Rose felt like something straight out of a Stephanie Meyers book. Out of irony, of course. "Try not to get fingerfoods at lunch since you'll need your hands clean." She murmured as she leaned against him, her black flats clicking smoothly, her hips swaying, her fingers grasped around Dave's arm. He was warm and smelled like Old Spice and apple juice. She looked up at his profile and studied him for a moment, on his chin she could see small faded lines of scars, scratches on his aviators, small strands in his hair were out of place. He was perfect to Rose.

Dave hums in a noncommittal sort of way in answer. He would think about the rushed pressure later, when he had Rose's sure guidance to help him through it. For now, he relishes in their closeness and the warmth the shorter woman is giving off. Because all too soon they reach her first period class, and he has to leave so not to be late for his. Lead by the warm feeling curling in his chest, Dave gives Rose a peck on the cheek before turning away, calling out "later," as he goes. He does have his coolkid image to uphold, after all.

Rose can't help but turn a pale shade of pink when he kissed her cheek, covering it up by looking down, trying not to smile as she took her seat in her first period class. Her fingers now toying with the ends of her ash blonde hair, thick ebony lashes against slightly freckled cheeks as she turned to the assigned chapter and attempted to work on a review. Attempted. Her mind was buzzing with Strider and it was a pleasurable inconvenience. She wondered how he felt right now. If his mind was buzzing as much with her as hers was with him.

Dave continues down the hallway, automatically turning the corner and managing to walk through the door at the exact minute the bell rings. On any other day he'd give himself a fist pump or something as he sat down. But today his thoughts were swimming with Rose. How she had blushed when he kissed her cheek, and the little smile she gave that made his stomach flip-flop. The way she acted so coy and how she makes his head spin. He has to read the warm-up on the board at least twice before it actually registers, though it takes him no time at all to actually complete the problem. Dave is good at math, but that doesn't mean he enjoys doing it. He finished the homework for this class, right?

 

Rose tilted her head back, a deep exhale escaping her dark plum lips yet again, her mind needing to be drained of Strider for a while. Just enough to get work done. She couldn't let her feelings interfere with her schoolwork, because she had bigger plans for life than just working at a local store for 4 years longer than intended. Rose had to focus, put the thought of Dave up where she couldn't reach it. Like a child and a cookie jar, she had to control herself. So, the young blonde opened her eyes and looked at the board, finishing her assignment within 10 minutes. Afterward, she took out her special white sketchbook with dark purple ribbon attached to it and began doodling Dave's hair, his aviators, made up situations and his reactions to them. And even though she erased it thoroughly, and would deny it to the day, she even drew a picture of Dave's beautiful crimson eyes. Catching his hidden passion in her picture like a firefly in the city.

Time could not possibly be moving slower, Dave thinks with a muted groan as he tilts his head back against his chair. Days like these have him wishing life could be like in his dreams, where he could move the course of time around himself and jump ahead to whenever he pleased. His teacher collected the homework, just as surprised as Dave was that he actually completed it, and today was bookwork and review for the test on Thursday. Dave unenthusiastically picked at his problems, leaving his paper covered in half-completed formulas and blank answers. He finds his mind wandering, more often than not, to his sister. In an attempt to stir himself away from some less-than-brotherly thoughts, he tries doodling on a loose sheet of notebook paper. He sketches out the bones of a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comic- the site was due for an update anyway, and other short panels. But when his styling starts to turn less cartoonish and more professional, filled with short pixie cuts that he longed to run his fingers through and soft curves clothed in sensible skirts and button-ups, and assumed-to-be violet eyes gazing at him under half-lids, Dave sets his pencil down with more force than necessary and scrubs at his eyes under his shades. He was going to go mad at this rate. But the bell rings soon enough and Dave darts up like a puppy and dashes to meet Rose, intending to walk her to her next class.

Rose was literally watching the clock tick down until she was mere seconds away from her next brief time with Dave. Every minute counted with him. An eternal thirst for his words, his scent, his presence. Just as she was leaving, a boy around her age approached her. He had black slicked back hair and glasses. Rose vaguely noticed his presence before because every time she saw him, he had this sense of false-pride about him. He was in her way now, though. Right where she wanted to walk through to see Dave. And wow he was talking. Interesting accent. She wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, like a channel you zone out on when you're waiting for a commercial to be over. Soon he seems to be waiting for her response on something. She gives a small eye roll and replies simply with "Idiot." Before weaving past him to meet Dave at the door.

There's some douche talking to his Rose, is the first thing Dave notices. Then he backtracks because she's not his. Not in the way he wants anyway. Rose's whole presence gives off an aura of annoyance as she blatantly ignores him, but the guy just isn't getting the message. Dave is just about to intervene when he hears Rose tersely call senior douchecanoe an idiot before breezing right past him. Silly Dave, thinking strong, independent Rose would ever need him to come to her rescue. He greets her with a smile, "sup?" before taking her hand without realizing his actions and leading her back into the crowd.

Rose greets Dave with a warm smile in return. She laces her fingers with his. Dave's hand is warm and she can feel his calluses from all the hard labor he's done in his life. She wouldn't trade a single scar or callus for anything. Rose's free hand brushed back her hair, those amethyst eyes peering up at him through her thick ebony lashes. "Thank goodness you came to rescue me." She flashed him a glimpse of those smooth white teeth, her eyes creasing with both mischief and flirtation.

Rose's smile has him reeling momentarily, trying to re-connect his mouth and brain so he can at least stutter out a reply. "Well yeah, I'm your night in shining Armour," he tries to shrug smoothly but her hand is so warm and soft and small in his "it's kinda in the job description." He makes the mistake of turning to look at Rose as they walk, and he gets so caught up in studying the lines of her face and the elegant curve of her neck that Dave stumbles into some passerby, who shoves him aside and causes Dave to run into Rose. "Shit! Sorry!"

The impact is enough to make Rose stumble into a locker, her shoulder nearly slamming into the metal. She stifled a small gasp of pain but regained her composure just as quickly. "You forgot to flick on your turn signal." She smirked, brushing it off. "No wonder you don't have you license yet." Rose rubbed at her shoulder with her fingertips. Yeah, that just might bruise. Oh well. The short blonde smoothed out her hair and shirt, making sure she still kept that Lalonde composure.

Shit, that just happened. Totally a thing, no denying it, way to go Strider. Dave lets out a shaky laugh when his sister lets out a crack about his driving. "Yeah, well, maybe I like having you chauffeur me around." Again, all too soon, they reach Rose's class, and Dave would leave her the same way he did before, but he was still a little nervous from his earlier slip up. Instead, he gives her a nod and a slight smile as he lets go of her hand, before turning back down the hall in the direction of the gym.

 

Seeing Dave smile was always a bit of a treat, so she liked to make him smile a lot. Rose felt special when he got flustered around her, or laughed. She could see how nervous he was, sure, his aviators covered up his eyes. But Rose was observant. She payed attention to little things. Like the way he fiddled with his fingers when he was nervous, or when he stuffed his hands in his pockets when he wanted to avoid confrontation, the way his lips drew in a line when he didn't want to say something truthful. So right now, she can tell that he was nervous, when he stopped at her classroom to drop her off, Rose couldn't resist letting her eyes linger on his figure until he was out of her sight.

Dave winds around a corner and past the lunchroom to the boy's locker room, moving almost entirely on autopilot. This whole morning had been an odd one, and it takes all of Dave's mental capacity to keep up his outwardly calm image. Rose is the only one would could ever make him this flustered. The ache in his heart is bullied down by the logical part of him, though. It's not like Rose would ever share his affections, she was his sister for crying out loud! It's not right, it's wrong, there must be something wrong with him. . .but that doesn't stop him from loving her. In fact, it almost gives him more of a reason to. They had always been closer than normal, and Dave's attraction towards his sister didn't just happen so much as it, developed along with the two of them. Teenage hormones are tricky business and these thoughts preoccupy Dave all through gym class. He barely responds when people try to talk to him, feeling oddly distance from the rest of the world.

 

Rose goes into her classroom with science on her mind. If only the wonders of the strange thing called love had a formula. The concept itself seemed easy to her at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it made her head hurt. Her heart was tight in her throat and her stomach was churning. 'So this is what it means to be lovesick.' She thought, bemused. Then her heart twisted as another thought crossed her mind. 'And he's my brother.'

That's when she started feeling really sick. On second thought, maybe she didn't need to be in class today. Rose got up and told her teacher that she was having 'girl problems' which in a way, was true. So Rose got a slip and once she was out of the class, she ripped it up and started wandering around the halls almost aimlessly, trying to fight the urge to go see Dave. Rose Lalonde lost this particular fight and stole a peek from the door window.

More often than not Dave finds his mind wandering, and it slowly gets harder and harder to focus on what's going on in front of him. Some supposedly fun re-dub of dodgeball, who even cares anymore, his class isn't even that competative. Dave is staring listlessly off into space when someone trying to get his attention jolts him from his thoughts by lightly shoving his shoulder. "Come on, Dave! What's up with you today?"

It's John, giving his friend a concerned look. Dave shakes his head, silently cursing his teacher-again- for making him take off his shades for this one class. "I'm just a little tired is all– must've stayed up too late not doing homework again." Dave tries to assure his friend. "It's whatever man."

John doesn't believe him, from the look on his face, but he's saying something else when something moves out of the corner of Dave's eye, catching his frayed attention. It's Rose, looking at him through the narrow window on the gym door. "Yeah, whatever Egbert, look I gotta. . ." gotta what? Leave class to go hang out with his sister, whom he may or may not have an incestuous crush on? "I gotta go do something, catch you later."

With that he dashes away, giving Rose a look he knows she notices, and curses himself again, before slipping through the doors when he was sure no one was watching. "Rose." He says, cradling her name like it would break if he dropped it. "Is everything okay?"

Rose's heart started pounding in her throat as a sunglasses-less Dave ditched his gym class for her, his crimson eyes staring at her with concern and... love. He was looking at her with so much love, and that tore Rose's heart in two directions. One part was fluttering with excitement at the way he looked at her, said her name, blew off his friend just to see her. The other part ached because they were siblings. It didn't matter where they went, how much they changed in appearance, they would always share the same DNA. The shorter blonde took in his form, his light brown freckles on his pale cheeks, [she wanted to kiss each freckle individually] his arms slightly gangly around the shoulders [she wanted to loop her arm with his], but muscular around the forearms from all his music mixing and... other teenage boy activities [she wondered how good he was with his hands], and his nails were short and clean [and she wanted to lace her fingers with his]. Now that he was right in front of her without his sunglasses and slightly emitting that body spray he casually spritzed on this morning, she wanted every inch of him.  
"Yes, everything's fine." She smiled reassuringly, lying through her teeth. "My heart wasn't with science today, so I left." She explained nonchalantly with a half-shrug, her dark blonde eyebrows raising slightly as her assumingly dilated violet eyes peered up at Dave Strider. "Is there anything wrong with me wanting to see my dearest Dave?" Rose avoided the word 'brother' as to not spoil the part of her heart that was falling in love with Dave– no, that was already in love with him. That fell for him like ketchup falls out of a bottle. Slowly, and then all at once. 

"Rose Lalonde skipping class?" Dave asks with only a hint of sarcasm. Internally, he's panicking more than a bit and slightly regretting joining his sister in such a hurry. Like this he's perfectly unguarded, vulnerable to her seeing every emotion that passes through his cursedly expressive eyes. But worrying about it would surely make her more suspicious, so Dave tries his best to pass as normal. "You must be feelin' sick, let big bro take your temperature little sis." Older by five minutes doesn't count for much, but this way Dave has almost an excuse to touch her, feel her skin against his like he's been aching for. 

Now that he has come to terms with the fact that he loves Rose, Dave realizes that he was wrong. Well, partially at least. Because he doesn't just love Rose, he aches for her, struck sick with a painful want to press his hands against her face like he is now, but to bend down for a kiss instead of pretending to feel her forehead. Longs to run his hands over every inch of her skin, lace his fingers in hers, memorize the patters of muscle and every line and curve of her body. Rose has such pretty eyes; what Dave wouldn't do to see them half-lidded with pleasure from the things he would do to her. She has such a lovely body, a generous chest, soft curves and wide hips (Dave is every bit the teenage boy he claims to be, no one could really blame him for that). But it's not just her figure, no, Rose has always held this otherworldly beauty about her. As mysterious and mature as the girl herself, in her way. Something tempting and wicked that Rose could learn to use to her advantage. 

All these pieces seem to click into place as Dave rests his hand against Rose's forehead, heat radiating off her skin not from fever. Dave's heart stutters in time with his breathing as he realizes how close he is to the shorter blond.

Rose's smile fades as she realizes how serious this is. How in love they are for each other, how desperately they ache for one another's touch. But she couldn't very well just jump his bones right here right now in the middle of a school hallway. She allows herself to be touched by Dave, closing her eyes, as if to memorize the way his fingers caressed and brushed against her. Rose's face leaning into the touch slightly, like a cat who misses attention and physical contact. She opens her eyes and they look at one another for a moment. She could practically hear the gears shift and work to try and figure out what she should do next. The shorter blonde feels herself turn a light pink as she lets her hand go on his chest, short fingernail tracing along his chest, collarbone, shoulder, anywhere she could get away with. "I think I deserve some time off. How about you get out of those gym clothes and put your shades on, and I'll wait for you in the car?" Her voice was low, smooth, and damn nearly seductive. Her white overbite bearing only to bite down on her dark plum full bottom lip. Rose's nail was still tracing up and down his chest as she leaned a bit closer. He was exactly the type of boy she could and would go the extra mile for. 

Dave is flying right now, soaring through the clouds and completely oblivious to everything except Rose's touch. He can feel his skin heat up in her wake, like she's branding him as hers. All the blood his brain requires for quick thinking is packing its bags and taking a road trip down his spine to his dick when Rose speaks up, whispering like she's planing something horrible. Which they both are, if the way she bites her lip at the end says anything. Finally Dave realizes what she's saying, and has to remember how to speak again. "Yeah, sure, meet you at the car," he manages out, the end of his words textured with gravel. Disappointment curls in his chest when she walks away, but it's quickly chased off by the look she leaves him with and the bounce of her ass. Now Dave can't move quick enough, flash-stepping so quickly back through the locker room and out towards the parking lot so quickly the only notice anyone took of his movements was the breeze left in his wake. Dave doesn't bother retrieving his backpack or anything from his locker, he doubts Rose did either.

In that time, Rose turned a corner, quickly re-applying her makeup, brushing her hair, spraying on a bit more perfume, but not too much. Everything had to be perfect, otherwise Dave might not love her the same way, pushing her breasts together a bit more, undoing an extra button, hiking her skirt up just a couple of inches higher. She wanted him to want her more than she wanted him. She ached to be desired by him, to feel his hands tangled in her hair, his lips against her neck. Rose wanted so badly to entwine her anatomy with his in any way that she could. So after she prepared herself, Rose walked out to her car as if the whole damn property was her personal runway and she was wearing only her confidence. black flats clicked their way to the car as she got in, looking at herself one last time in the vanity mirror. She gave her cheeks a small pinch for color and pursed her black lips before flipping the vanity mirror back up. 

Dave tries to move fast enough that the part still screaming reason at him couldn’t possibly keep up. He’s far past saving at this point, already unconsciously picking at his clothes and running a hand through his hair, anything to assure himself that Rose would still want him even after their break in contact earlier. They were so close, practically breathing the same air and Dave wanted- still wants- nothing more than to be able to catch her perfect lips in his. The fear that he would want to take this too far enters his mind, but would that really be so bad? To go all the way? They were both mature young adults, and it’s not like other kids their age weren’t already starting to experiment that sort of thing. Plus, Rose was practically begging ‘yes’ with the way she was touching him earlier. Dave makes up his mind as he gets in the car, taking one look at Rose and seeing everything that he wanted in a partner- and more- looking right back at him. What a sight she was, flustered with want, touched up just right, just for him. Shit, Dave was so in love right now.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Rassurez-vous, je suis impressionné -  
> "Don't worry, you, I am impressed."  
> [2] Comme j'ai su vous seriez -  
> "As I knew you would be."  
> [3] Et si vous êtes chanceux, peut-être plus -  
> "And if you are lucky, perhaps more."  
> [4] Baise oui -  
> "Fuck yeah,"


End file.
